Page 107 of The Lyon Won't Lose
“You don’t have to call me that anymore. Tristan or Cameron will do.”
She shook her head. “No, Chase is still a fitting name for you. Where did it come from?”
“My great-grandfather. Chase Dougal Cameron.”
Felicity brought her sisters to him.
“Belinda, Georgiana, this is my husband, Tristan.”
They curtsied shyly.
“And these are his sister and brother, Gwen and Dougal.”
The children inspected each other cautiously, Gwen more interested than Dougal. Flick’s sisters were dressed modestly in homemade gowns. All the girls would enjoy a new wardrobe.
Flick waved to everyone. “Let’s go inside and get settled with tea and sandwiches.”
Amelia hugged Felicity as she passed, and Daisy did the same.
“I’m so glad you invited all of us,” Daisy said.
“Me too,” Flick returned with a warm smile.
Tristan grabbed her hand before she followed everyone inside. The hired carriages rumbled off.
She turned to face him and raised a brow. Tristan tucked his hand under her hair, cupping the back of her neck. He dipped his head, her eyes softening, growing liquid and warm.
“Are we going to tell them?” he asked.
“Not yet. I’d like to wait a little longer.”
“There won’t be a single quiet moment once we enter that house,” he said with a smile.
They both looked back. They could see through the new glass windowpane. Dougal bounced around. Graham sat on the arm of the sofa and Gwen was pouring tea just like Flick had taught her.
“This is everything I never knew I wanted,” she said. She looked back at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re thanking me?”
“I wouldn’t have any of this without you. You showed me how to love, how to live, how to fight.”
“You could have had more if you had married Hugstead.”
“No. He couldn’t give me this. Only you can. Only you, Tristan.”
He took her mouth in a sweet kiss with just a hint of the heat and passion they’d share later. Because now that they had left the Den behind and their debts cleared with the Black Widow of Whitehall, Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon, Tristan knew there would be so much more for them to celebrate together. The farm had new equipment, and they would have better yields come autumn. That night he’d bet all he had for this life. He’d taken a huge risk. But it was worth it. Flick, their love, their family, would always be worth it. He’d do it all again if he had to, because he knew, when everything he loved was at stake, he couldn’t lose.
